PotC: The Soul of a Pirate
by corinne sparrow
Summary: Corinne Young is on her way to Port Royale to visit her cousin, Elizabeth, when her ship is attacked by the Black Pearl. Once Jack has taken this woman captive, however, he finds her to be more trouble that she's worth... All Finished! PLEASE R&R!
1. They want Pirates

disclaimer: no, I don't own PotC, Jack Sparrow, etc (blah blah blah). I only own Corinne and any other original characters not from the movies.

**Chapter One**

Corinne Young leaned on the edge of the ship. She doubled over slightly, and then heaved the contents of her stomach into the blue-green waters. It swirled with an eddy, and then dissipated into the wake of churning water. Turning around, she saw several crewmembers trying to look uninterested. She hardened her mouth into a firm line and stalked past them all, her nose turned up in the air. Just because she wasn't used to the sea yet didn't mean they were better than her. She was meant to be on land, after all.

The cabin they'd given her was far too small, not big enough for any of her belongings, and she'd been furious when they refused to give her the captain's cabin to store the rest of her things. Why wouldn't they listen to her? She was the most important person on this ship, and they were being paid to take her across the ocean.

Port Royale...it was the most prestigious British city in the Caribbean isles, and she was to be the guest of honor at the Emerald Seas Inn. They'd already informed her parents that Corinne would lack nothing while she was there, she need only to ask.

Perhaps one of the King's good men would take a fancy to her, and she would be obliged to stay a few months longer for his promotion to sergeant. She smiled at the thought. She was certainly pretty enough – her skin was a lovely milky white, her hair was...well, all right, her hair was not pretty. It was red, and she wished that she had some brown or black dye to change it to a more favorable color.

But she was still good-looking, even with her reddish hair. She leaned against the bedpost, feeling queasy again. This blasted voyage would never end!

Captain Jack Sparrow opened his compass and looked at it, grinning as he did so. It held a sentimental value to him, even though it had long ceased to point north. The salty spray misted his face as he gazed out over the horizon. The sun was creeping towards the western side and day waned.

Anna Maria stepped up beside him, pushing her hat back on her head. "Captain, we've spotted someone at Starboard...two o'clock."

He squinted at the formerly unbroken horizon. Now a small speck dotted it, getting steadily larger. "They're coming on fast," he commented.

"We figure it's a British vessel heading for Port Royale." Gibbs surmised as Anna Maria swung up to the crow's nest.

Jack pulled out his telescope and spied the ship, as it grew closer. It was British all right, no mistaking the huge Union Jack that flapped briskly in the breeze. He looked up at his own flag. They'd probably fire on the _Pearl_ as soon as they were within range. Chances are there were more ships close behind the one coming, too. Probably they'd already spotted the black sails and were heading over to see if they couldn't get themselves a little fame among the Brits while they sailed towards their destination. Well, the _Black Pearl_ wasn't the ship to be firing on if you were British. In fact, she wasn't the ship to see if you were British. Being the fastest ship in the Caribbean did have its benefits.

He collapsed the small telescope and turned his course away from the one the British ship was on. Their vessels weren't going to meet if Jack could help it. After all, even the _Pearl_ couldn't take on an entire fleet of merchant ships.

"Take her to Starboard Bow," he yelled, and the crew swung the sails around, taking the ship in a different direction.

They continued for a while in that direction, but the merchant ship seemed intent on going wherever they went. One thing was for sure, however; the other ships that he'd counted on weren't there. So they were sailing alone... Jack stared at the other ship, his eyes narrowing at the blue, red and white flag that still waved at them.

"They want pirates, we'll give 'em pirates," he muttered to himself, letting a slight grin take over his face. "Take the _Pearl_ up alongside her. I want to see what this one has to say."

The crew obeyed; they knew what he had planned. It was already obvious what the British vessel had planned; but then again, they probably weren't ready for what the pirates aboard the legendary ship had in mind. So they had the upper hand.

The two ships danced toward each other in the sparkling waters, each churning up foam in its wake. Finally, they faced each other, and the captain of the pirate ship leaned against the helm.

"I suggest that whatever you were planning to do with my ship be forgotten and you sail along on your merry way. Otherwise, I shall have to hold your captain until everything aboard your ship be plundered to our satisfaction."

Corinne crept up the stairs to the deck, watching what was going on. Pirates! She would have spat in disgust but it wasn't proper. Now the crew was laughing. Why were they laughing?

"You want our captain, you come an' get 'im!" one of the men jeered. "Unless you'd like _me_ to hold a pistol to 'is head."

Corinne spotted something on the deck near the edge...it was white and...it was her handkerchief! She must have dropped it while she'd been up here earlier. She saw that one of the men was standing close by and he might step on it...so she walked up and bent over to pick it up, pushing him out of the way. But the pirate's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Or she will do." Suddenly, a man hauled himself over the side of the ship and grabbed her, getting her soaking wet and holding her tightly with one arm behind her back. Corinne heard the _click_ of a pistol next to her ear. The pirate who'd grabbed hold of her whispered in her other ear.

"Just go along with us, and you won't get hurt. Now, turn around slowly." Corinne, shaking with fear, turned to face the shocked crewmembers. Clearly, this hadn't occurred to their small brains.

"Now, as I said before, if you'd only cooperated and kindly adjusted your course, none of this would have had to happen. But it's too late now..." he nodded to his crew, and they swung across onto the British vessel. "Here's our deal. You let us take whatever we want, and the lady remains unharmed."

"Do what he says, you louts!" she cried. "You don't want to get me killed, do you?"

The men looked at one another. They were, in fact, not sure if it truly bothered them. But the captain's cabin door swung open, and he glared at his men. They straightened up. "The lady _will_ remain unharmed, and my men _will_ do whatever is necessary to ensure that. I was given strict orders to make sure she arrived safely." The captain finally looked up at his pirate adversary...and took a second look.

"Jack?"

The pirate grinned. "Benjamin. Been awhile since we were up against each other, wouldn't you say?"

"I'd say it's been ten years."

"Not much has changed since then, eh?"

"No, Jack. Not much."

The pirates opened the cabin doors and checked out what was inside; Corinne watched in horror and rage as they carried off her trunks. She trembled angrily as a woman pirate – certainly no lady – strapped ropes around it and sent it to the other ship.

One of the men pointed to a crewman who had recently been issued new arms – right before this voyage, actually. "I like that pistol." He remarked nonchalantly. The captain motioned to his crewman, who gave him a strange look and handed the pirate his gun. "Thanks," replied the scalawag, offering a yellowed smile before grabbing a rope and swinging back to his ship.

"Okay, men, that's about enough. I'd burn this ship but the captain and I go way back. I want to make sure to get him on the way out of Port Royale, too." Sparrow tossed a roguish grin in the direction of the English vessel and bid his men return to the _Pearl_.

Corinne hardly realized what was happening until the pirate who held her tightened his grip. "Hold on, missy. We're goin' for a ride, and I'd hate to see ya get wet."

"I already am wet," she wailed, pouting.

"Shet up and hang on," he replied, and she held on for dear life as he took hold of his own rope and suddenly they were airborne. She felt sick when she looked down at the water; but then there was a sharp jerk and they were on the deck of the pirate ship.

Captain Jack – he looked dirtier up close – bowed low to the British ship and ordered his men to set sail. Corinne ran to the portside edge and a look of terror crossed her face – they weren't returning her to her ship!

"That's right, miss, you're our insurance that they won't fire on us." The first mate growled. She watched, panic-stricken, as the English ship grew smaller and smaller...

"Take her to the hold for now," the captain said, and suddenly she was seized by strong arms and lifted into the belly of the ship.

"You behave now, miss," one of them admonished, looking mock serious before they placed the grate over the trap door. And Corinne was in darkness.


	2. Taking Orders

Chapter Two

Jack Sparrow stepped out of his cabin and looked out over the Caribbean, a yellow-orange light flickering off the water. The sun was a flaming ball on the horizon, and seagulls floated lazily overhead. His crew was up and they were all getting some food from the galley. As he stepped to the main deck, a thumping to his left attracted his attention. He peered down into the hold to face a glaring young woman.

"Well, hello. Sleep well?"

"You filthy pirate – "

"It's not very nice to assume I don't take baths because I like to plunder ships."

She gazed up at him, suddenly cool. "You seem to fit the description well enough."

"Be kind, now!"

"You've shown no kindness to me," she replied, setting her jaw.

"You're alive, aren't you?"

She did not respond; only glared daggers at him.

"Oh, so we _have _been kind to you, but you don't wish to admit it..."

"I am alive, it is true. But considering what you're going to do to me, I'd rather be dead."

"Come now, do you really think we, the humble pirates of the _Black Pearl,_ would do such a thing? You really must get your misconceptions of our kind cleared up."

She looked away, apparently deciding to behave in case they chose to offer something she could use...like food.

"What's your name, lass? Tell me that and I'll give you something to eat."

The girl sucked in her cheeks and looked up again. "Corinne Victoria Young," she said haughtily. "And as soon as the _Jupiter_ reaches Port Royale, everyone will know I've been captured."

"And -?" Jack cocked his head to one side. "You think that they'll rush to find you? I mean; the crew seemed to eager to have you back, didn't they?"

She opened her mouth to speak, and then shut it again. "They are of lower breeding. Someone who knows etiquette will search for me."

"Right, I'm sure that they will." He left for a moment and returned with a bowl of porridge and some hardtack. "Here's your breakfast. Enjoy, my dear lady."

"Your dear lady," she said as she took the food, "I'm not your anything."

"We'll see." He replied, closing the grate again. Until she was tamer, she wasn't coming out of that hold.

Corinne bit back a cry as she sunk a tooth into the hardtack. When she pulled away from it, the tooth nearly came out with it. She held her aching jaw in her hand, holding back tears. This pirate business apparently required having strong teeth...or a few gold ones, like the captain. At any rate, the porridge looked like a safer option for the moment.

It was a good thing it was cold; her tongue would be less likely to swell from lack of water. As for the hardtack, she opened the porthole beside her and flung it out to sea. There was no use for it in this dark prison.

They'd lit no lamps down here, and so Corinne could see nothing. She'd sat under the light that filtered down from the grate over the opening. It was shut tightly; she'd already checked that. Even if she could manage to get all the way up the ladder without tripping over her dress – which contained yards of fabric – the grate was too firmly planted over the opening.

She was too angry still to be curious about anything; whatever was down here could wait. Besides that, she had no love for the dark and there was certainly plenty of that down here, whether or not it concealed anything worth stealing.

The thought of stealing brought a stern rebuke to her mind, but she silenced it. These were pirates, after all; their business was stealing and so whatever she took from them did not matter.

Suddenly, she knew she was going to be sick. After the long voyage to these waters to visit her cousin, Elizabeth, she still was not used to the rocking motion of ships. She had spent her entire life on land, and that was where she worked best. But as she looked around, there was no place to relieve her roiling stomach. The porthole was too small; if she missed it could end up all over her dress.

Something from a few feet away caught the corner of her eye and she grabbed the bucket, getting rid of the porridge she'd just eaten. So much for being proper. Well, as long as no one else found out about her inability to keep her body under control, she would excuse it.

There was the sound of wood creaking above her, and the first mate's bearded face peered down at her.

"Up you come, Miss Young, the captain says you may be released from the hold. Don't know that it's wise to do so, but he's the captain." He took a look at the bucket and a grin crossed his face. "Haven't got your sea legs yet, eh?"

"No, I haven't, and I don't intend to, as my voyage home will be the last time I ever set foot on a ship again."

"I don't know if I am heartbroken or not." The pirate replied, as she tried valiantly to struggle around her rather large dress to climb the ladder. "Lemme give you a hand there." He grabbed her arm and yanked her up to the deck, and she pulled away, rubbing her wrist.

"You'll pay for this, someday. All of you. As soon as I can get to Port Royale, you'll all be dead men."

"Strong words coming from a lady who is rather...shall we say, not on the bargaining end of things, don't you think?" Captain Jack Sparrow leaned on the helm nonchalantly. His posture straightened. "Listen, and closely so. You will either behave in the way that I tell you to on the deck, or you will behave however you choose beneath the deck." He motioned to the hold. "That clear enough for you?"

Corinne resisted the urge to spit on his precious deck and nodded. "Couldn't be more so."

"Good. Then we shall all be quite a bit happier if the _Black Pearl_'s lovely decks were cleaned." She stared at him. He closed his eyes. "Have you ever taken an order in your life?"

"I'm an English noblewoman, Captain Jack Sparrow. I have always _given_ the orders."

"No one's perfect, I suppose," he muttered, and nodded to Anna Maria. "Teach her."

Gibbs pulled out his flask and took a quick drink from it.

"What's that?" Jack wondered. "Scotch, like usual? Let me have some..." He reached for it and tipped his head back... "Nearly empty." He scowled. "Well, we're headed for Tortuga anyways, so I'll get some rum when we dock."

They gazed out at the dazzling sea, with the sun dancing on the water. A few seagulls circled lethargically in the distance, but nothing else graced the horizon or their view. Good thing, too...British ships had started searching for them the day after Jack's "escape" from Port Royale.

The _Pearl_ hadn't been to Tortuga under Jack's hand for a long time. They'd had to stay away from his favorite town for two months, but now food, water, and most importantly, rum, were all in short supply. It was time to be done with lying low. After all, this ship was nigh uncatchable.

He grinned. Tortuga it was.


	3. Corinne's escape

Chapter Three

The cabin was dark, and all Corinne could see was the faint shadows cast on the faces of the crew from a single candle. Anyone who wanted a breath of fresh air was warned on pain of death not to wake the others.

She couldn't sleep; part of that was due to the infernal parrot across the room, which wouldn't stop singing its old pirate songs. Apparently, everyone else was used to it, but Corinne had had enough of the racket that thing was making.

"Shut your beak," she told it in a fierce whisper, picking up a piece of hardtack from the floor and throwing it in his general direction. Luckily, it didn't hit Mr. Cotton himself; who was snoring with his tongueless mouth partly open, but the parrot was no idiot either. It ducked, and then began singing louder.

The sun rose in a blaze of glory the next morning, giving off a golden glow to the sea surface, and a pink hue to the clouds that surrounded it.

Corinne stopped on her way out of the cabin to look; a disgruntled Anna Maria shoved her roughly out of the way.

"Get out of the doorway," she mumbled and then continued across the deck.

Corinne tore her eyes away from the beautiful sight and headed for the water barrel. She realized, to her astonishment, that there was almost no seasickness at all. A little queasiness hit her whenever the ship crested a large swell, but mostly she was fine.

Not that it would matter, for she would be free of these pirates soon. She was certain that as soon as they passed close by an English settlement, that Captain Jack Sparrow would let her ashore. If he didn't, she'd find some way to alert all of the British settlements living anywhere near the Caribbean. Somehow...somehow she'd manage it.

The water tasted cool to her dry, cracked lips, and helped her swollen tongue to shrink somewhat. But it would not satisfy the gnawing hunger that ate away at her insides. She approached the galley, where the first mate – Mr. Gibbs, she thought she'd heard him called – was handing out what little was left of their food. Apparently, the _Black Pearl _hadn't been near a food or water supply in a while. He scowled at her as she stepped up to receive her share, but he still gave her what he rationed everyone else.

Her dress, after having to scrub the decks on her hands and knees the day before, was a shambles. It wasn't meant to be used in such a hard fashion, and now its light beige print was stained with dirt, sweat, and blood – she'd encountered a previous fight scene where the loser hadn't been so lucky as to leave conscious. Anna Maria had told her that.

She didn't wish to look at her reflection in the water, but as her hands reached what had been an orderly hairdo, she grimaced. So much for being presentable. But then again, she still looked much nicer and more refined than everyone on this tub combined. Perhaps that was because she _was_...even if, for an English woman, she happened to look atrocious.

The glare of the sun bouncing off the waves did not yet hurt her eyes, as the sun was barely over the horizon and it was still warming up. But she noticed something else on the horizon, slightly to the north of the rising sun.

"Is that a ship?" she asked, turning to one of the crewmembers. It was Mr. Cotton. His eyes flicked to the parrot, which leaned slightly forward. "Dead men tell no tales," it squawked quietly. Apparently the bird hadn't forgiven her for interrupting its concert the night before. Corinne sighed in disgust and stepped up to the captain, who raised his eyebrows and waited for her to say something.

"Is that a ship coming?" she asked, pointing to the small white speck that was heading their way.

Sparrow looked to where she indicated, and nodded. "Yes. Why?"

"Is it a British ship?"

"I would assume so, since rarely does another kind of ship appear in these waters...well, except for the _Pearl_."

"Then I demand to be released into the custody of that ship. Let me go with them, and I'll trouble you with my presence no more."

"Is there anything else you'd like to demand, Miss Young?" he responded, leaning against the outer cabin wall. "I suggest you get comfortable, luv, because until we can be rid of you without risking harm to ourselves, you are staying on this ship."

Corinne was so angry she couldn't even cry. She just glared daggers at the abominable man who refused even to set her free when she had the chance. How would it endanger him? He could just sail away and she'd tell them not to shoot at the pirates. They'd listen to her; after all, her father was a respected, esteemed member of the English Parliament. She had connections. Well, she would if she could just figure out a way to get off this confounded ship.

Jack looked out over the sea, his eyes having long since grown accustomed to the glint the sunlight reflected off the water. He fingered the braids that grew from his chin. The blue sky showed no hint of a storm nearby; only white puffy clouds and a few gulls off in the distance. He truly loved the sea. If nothing else had persuaded him to be a pirate (besides the urge to resist all authority and the dazzling treasure he now possessed), the beauty of the ocean had called to him. He was by no means an art lover, or someone who felt that nature was to be looked at and not touched. If anything, he felt that nature was to be used as much to one's advantage as it could provide.

But nature was beautiful. Even if he cared nothing for it, it was fascinating.

His eyes drifted to the young woman who stood on deck, watching her only hope of escape sail in another direction. No tears glistened on her cheeks...but he suspected that it was only because she was beyond that point now. No matter. Anyone who was stupid enough to let a hostage go within range of another ship deserved to be fired upon. And he was not that stupid.

But Gibbs stepped up beside him. "We could let that English woman go in a life boat...she isn't doing anything here except using up our food and water."

Jack thought a moment and looked at his first mate. "I'm inclined to say no anyways...but I have a feeling that you're right. If she can row, that is. If not, she'll get a crash course in it."

The small rowboat made a slight _splash_ as it plopped into the blue- green waters of the Caribbean. Corinne peered up at the captain, who waved cheerfully.

"Farewell, Miss Young...and may we never meet again."

"The same to you, Jack Sparrow."

"Captain, if you please, miss."

"As you wish..._Captain_ Sparrow." She said no more, but put all her effort into rowing her way towards the British naval vessel.

Water splashed over the sides of the tiny boat, and several times Corinne thought she would be swept overboard. But it held its integrity, and within an hour, the ship had spotted her. She heard shouts coming from the British sailors, indicating that they would send another skiff her way. Finally, after her weak arms would function no more, she set down the oars and watched as a brave young lieutenant commanded his boat towards her.

"Thank you...thank you so much," she panted, exhausted from the physical exertion. The officer just nodded and tied her boat to his. Then they began rowing back to the ship.

Jack watched the small figure collapse in the bottom of her boat as the Brits hauled her in.

"There she goes...the only hostage we've ever been glad to be rid of."

Gibbs shook his head. "I have a feeling that we're not rid of her yet. People like that tend to turn up like a bad penny."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Replied the captain.

"I was captured by pirates," Corinne explained. "They made me work and fed me on terrible rations. And they stole my things from the ship."

"What ship?" the British captain asked.

"The _Jupiter_," she replied. "A merchant vessel...and they took many things from the rest of the ship too." She ground her fist into her palm. "If I ever catch Jack Sparrow again, I'll - "

"Whom did you just mention?" the captain was suddenly interested.

"Jack Sparrow. Why? Is he famous?"

"Infamous, is what. He's the most ruthless, elusive pirate in these waters and perhaps around the world. If you can provide information of his whereabouts, we'd be grateful."

Corinne shook her head. "I don't know about that...but the parrot was a cheek."


	4. The Call of the Sea

Chapter Four

Tortuga was the same as always...wild, rowdy, and dirty. But then again, no one who lived there complained, and no one else mattered.

Jack gave strict orders to the crew to be back from leave on time and headed for the tavern with Gibbs. They were used to the routine, and no one paid them mind as they walked in. The crowd inside was accustomed to seeing wanted men appear on this island. Unfortunately, the times when the British ventured to actually come here, it was dangerous.

But none of that bothered Jack. He and Gibbs were fine...the British usually considered it more trouble that it was worth to head for Tortuga. Besides, only a few of them knew it existed...which may have been a good thing.

Overturned tables, women being paid by the hour, and very drunk men were the sights that greeted them...as usual. Jack found a small table near the back and he and his first mate sat back to relax for the first time in a long time.

The cabin Corinne had on the huge British ship was larger than her previous one, but she was obliged to share it with another young woman. She didn't care, however, only being glad to be away from those pirates. And the other lady was not going to be on the ship much longer; her stop was a couple of days away and then she would be gone.

The wind was in their favor, and they reached their final destination sooner than even the captain had predicted. The weather was fair, and Corinne was glad of that. She did not feel well after her ordeal and wished to recover.

The town was quiet, and the ship let her and the other passengers off. She wished to go directly to Port Royale, but the captain told her that she could recover a while here off the coast of this small island, and they would take her with them when they returned.

So Corinne whiled away three weeks, reading some books that her roommate had kindly offered to let her have – perhaps out of pity – and trying to forget being captured by pirates.

But every so often, she would wake, as if from a dream, and find herself on deck, staring at the sea. Like...like the sea called to her. She didn't know why this was so...even though her seasickness was gone, almost miraculously, but she could not help wishing she were sailing, the wind blowing her red hair in every direction.

Three and a half weeks after she had been freed, she was sitting on the main deck of the ship, reading, when someone touched her shoulder. It was the first mate.

"Miss Young...we're going to set sail for Port Royale this afternoon, so if there's anything you need to do to be ready, the captain suggests you do so now."

Corinne thanked him and watched as he walked away, his gait militarily stiff. She looked at him and wondered if he fancied her. She wasn't so sure if she fancied him, however. He was too upright...like a rod. And his hair was pulled back sharply, severely. He did not wear a powdered wig, but the pompous air he carried with him made up for that. He was nice enough...but only because, she suspected, he was trying to woo her.

She frowned; she must not be entirely recovered from her ordeal yet. She would never have thought like that about an officer in the King's navy. After all, they were good men. They served the crown.

They were boring.

Jack Sparrow leaned his chair back. He'd had a good rest...three weeks was enough to refresh him. And his ship was stocked enough to bear the crew for a fortnight and a half. His mug of ale was not entirely finished; but he remedied that, and tossed it onto the table. He stood and walked out of the tavern, breathing in the...well, the not exactly sweet air. It smelled of gunpowder, from the various guns that were fired at any hour of the night. And of course the stench of the animals that roamed about freely was not to be missed.

Yes, it was time to be back out to the sea. Rest was good, especially on Tortuga, but one could only take the kind of respite it offered for a short while, and then he must be off again.

As soon as he stepped onto the _Pearl'_s gangplank, the fresh salty sea air assaulted his nostrils, and he breathed it in like the breath of heaven. He was a born pirate.

The crew was all accounted for, and the beauty of a ship sat heavy in the water, her hold full and her sails begging to be let down. Jack smiled. He would oblige her, soon enough.


	5. The Storm

Chapter Five

The sails took to the wind nicely, filling up with air almost immediately after they set sail. The smell of the ocean was fresh, and its color was especially brilliant today.

Corinne watched in fascination as the crew worked aboard, pulling ropes and changing pulleys and climbing the rigging. It was amazing to stare at them as they did their jobs – and quite well, too. In spite of the typical English demeanor – which she was beginning to recognize easily, and without helping herself, abhor – it was a remarkable sight.

Then, as she looked out over the watched the white fluffy clouds slowly creep by, Corinne suddenly wondered if _she_ was stuffy like that. _Was_ she? She had no idea – except when she thought about the voyage over from England. She had been extremely uncouth to the captain and the crew – lesser breeding or not. And what about the pirates? She almost laughed when she thought of that. They were _pirates_. And yet...they hadn't killed her. She'd only had what they had to eat. She had not been kept prisoner more than one night, and they had let her take one of their lifeboats and go to her British friends.

Now that she'd been with her English consorts for longer than the three days she'd spent on the _Black Pearl_, she found that she didn't enjoy their company in the least. It was...uninteresting to talk about the weather, or the size of the ship's hold. These were two of the most familiar subjects of her conversations with the first mate. There was something strange about him...not quite right. She wasn't sure what it was, though.

But the first mate was driven from her mind by another thought; she realized that she did not enjoy being a noblewoman anymore. She also apprehended the fact that the clothing she wore was painful. Before she hadn't minded at all...it had been fashionable, and proper, and that was that. But now, after being out in the sun far much more than she was used to, it seemed hot and close, the many layers under her top skirt making the heat almost unbearable. She wished she could wear something perhaps more cool and comfortable. True, the dresses were made out of cotton, but wearing twenty layers of cotton defeated the entire point, really.

Then it all came together in one horrible thought – Corinne hated being British!

Captain Jack Sparrow leaned on his helm, breathing in the air and grinning. Being a wanted man was most definitely worth the freedom of piracy. He watched his crew as they slung themselves into the rigging, as they always did on the first day after leave, to watch the land disappear from sight. The _Pearl_ needed nothing but a steady hand on the wheel for a few hours, now that she was headed in the right direction.

And so Jack grabbed a stool from nearby and sat on it, putting his feet lackadaisily between two of the handles. There was to be no plundering of ships today – only the wind, the waves, and the bright tropical sun. In a week or so they'd find some unsuspecting English vessel – perhaps the _Jupiter,_ fresh from Port Royale and ripe for the picking. Or another ship might be better...one that hadn't had a recent encounter. The ship Miss Young had arrived in the sea with would most likely be over-manned, bristling with ammunition and extra troops to protect them from the threat of return Jack had hinted at.

But Jack would not be returning...well, at least, not to Port Royale or its proximity, for a long time.

He looked out over the horizon, and saw a storm brewing. It would be coming this way, or perhaps heading west. Either way, the sea would be restless tonight.

Corinne obeyed the crewman's sharp order to get below deck. She felt the cold wind on her exposed skin and needed no further urging. It was getting nasty out there.

Once in her cabin, she looked out the porthole at the rollicking sea, and wondered what it would be like to be up on deck with the sailors, working hard and ignoring the tempest that raged about them. She wasn't sure that she would choose that, but it might be better than sitting down here wondering what was going on.

The seasickness hadn't returned yet, and she was hoping that the storm would not bring another bout of it. That had been awful...attempting to eat and then not being able to keep more than a tiny bit down.

But it did not bother her now. She sat down at the table, lighting the candle that was securely anchored to the wall, and began to read her book. It was not fascinating, by any means, and she couldn't concentrate on it. So she blew out the candle, grabbed the lit lamp, and left the cabin. Perhaps there was something she could do.

The rain was coming down in sheets, and lightning split the sky in two. Corinne covered her ears against the _crack_ of thunder that threatened to bring down the heavens.

She approached the captain and was about to ask him if she could help when his eyes got a look of realization. Then she could say nothing, because there was a tremendous _crash_ and the ship lurched beneath her feet. She nearly lost her balance and fell over the side, but at the last moment she caught herself.

"Sir, we've hit a sandbar!" came a single cry in response to the din that ensued. The captain swore violently and took another look at Corinne.

"Miss, you get to the lifeboats, _now!_" and he struggled back to the other end of the ship. Corinne did not know what to do except obey, so she headed toward the side where she'd seen the small boats that hung over the side. There, between the brightly painted boats that all bore the mark of His Majesty, was a little dinghy with worn sides and only one paddle. She leapt into that one, careful to grab a rope beforehand. Then she was inside. She called up to the men.

"Hey!"

One of them peered over the side at her.

"Are there more passengers for this boat?" she wondered, and he nodded his head, apparently understanding. But he loosed the ropes that held the lifeboat in place, and she dropped to the angrily frothing waves.

For a moment, she thought in horror that she would be swept under the massive keel of the ship, but then the waves caught her away, and she watched the lights of the British vessel as they grew farther and farther away...


	6. The Unwanted Prisoner Returns

Chapter Six

Jack slept somewhat peacefully that night, in spite of the rough waters. The tempest that had raged for the past two days was passing his ship by, but not by much. Apparently, he thought, as he looked over the side of the ship the next morning, not everyone was as fortunate as he was. Driftwood floated by, some of it painted the stark British white.

"His Majesty lost another ship to this storm, I shouldn't wonder," Gibbs commented as he returned to his place at the helm.

"Yes..."

"What's on your mind, Jack?"

"I was just wondering if our hostage made it to Port Royale. She was quite worried about it."

"If I heard her right, she is going to motivate them further to hunt us down." He grinned. "Somehow I doubt her abilities of persuasion."

"I don't think Miss Young could have gotten them to send out more ships on her account...they've already got enough of them in these waters looking for us."

"Indeed." Gibbs looked about to say something when his face changed. "What's that...over there, between port and bow?"

Jack squinted, and straightened up. He strode over to the side of the _Pearl_ and leaned over the edge. "It's our lifeboat. This must have been the ship she took." Something about that seemed to unsettle him, as if it had been his fault. Normally, he would not have had any qualms...but she'd been a lady, whether or not she was truly courteous. "Is there someone in it?" he wondered aloud, and at that moment the current caught their little boat, and it swung around to reveal a very soggy young woman. A very familiar, very soggy young woman.

"It's her," Gibbs answered under his breath. Then, he motioned to one of the men standing nearby. "Get our boat up."

Corinne knew nothing except the glaring sun, the warm Caribbean water, and her parched, cracked lips. She felt nothing...and she hadn't known anything for a long time. She didn't know how long she'd lain there...but then whatever she was lying on lurched slightly, and she felt strong arms lift her out of the boat. That's what it was...a boat.

And she heard voices...she'd heard them before. But her sun-fried brain could not place them.

She struggled to open her eyes, and saw nothing but blue sky...and the rigging of a ship. Black sails fluttered gently in a light breeze. She knew nothing.

Jack lifted Corinne and carried her into his cabin, laying her on the bed. "She needs water." He looked at Anna Maria, and she nodded, starting to leave. "No, wait...bring some rum, too. That might aid in her waking."

She left, and upon returning, found the young woman with her eyes slightly open. Jack took the bottle of rum and put it to her lips. Corinne, thinking it was water, gulped quickly. But by the time she realized otherwise, she was coughing and sputtering...but indeed, she was much more awake.

"Water?" she croaked, and Jack grinned and corked the rum. Then he obliged her request for water, and she drank the entire cup.

"Now, Miss Young, I do believe you could use some rest. We'll get you some food."

She laid her head back on the pillow. "Thank you," she said very quietly.

"Don't thank me yet," Jack replied, and closed the cabin door behind him.

Corinne fell asleep almost the moment the captain had shut the door. She was exhausted...she wasn't sure how many days she'd lain out in the sun without food or water, but proper rest would not come at night, due to the rough waters and lack of other essentials.

When she woke again, there was a plate piled high with food sitting next to her bed. It looked as if it had been there for quite some time, and she knew it had been when she picked up a grape...it was a little warm now.

No one was here, watching her, and she was so hungry she thought she might eat ten times what they'd given her. But the pirates were generous enough to even take her back in...especially after the threats she'd thrown out last time she was on this ship. She tore hungrily at the food; taking it in and wishing she could just inhale it all in one breath and make the feeling of starvation go away.

When she finally felt well enough to stand, her stomach was full and she looked down at her dress. It had been fairly new, purchased while she was on the British ship. Now it was tattered rags, torn several times by – she guessed – her escape from the sinking vessel, and who knew what else. She barely even remembered the time she'd spent in the little lifeboat, due most likely to her heat-soaked delirium.

Corinne suddenly decided that she wasn't going to wear the dress anymore. It was heavy and of no use on a ship like this. There was no telling when she'd leave; and she wasn't sure now that she wanted to. These pirates had treated her with their best, though at times, she was certain it was not much. But at the very least she must find a way to send word to Elizabeth that she was all right. She unbuttoned the dress and it fell off in a crumpled heap on the floor. It looked rather silly lying there, all worn and torn and used after only a week's wear or so. The corset she was even gladder to be rid of. It seemed so confining; she could hardly believe she'd chosen to wear one at all.

She headed toward the other end of the room and pulled open the top drawer that was built into the wall of the cabin. There was one shirt in there, much too big for her, but she pulled it out and shrugged it on over her petticoat. She buttoned it up and nearly laughed out loud at her appearance in the mirror in front of her. She was a strange sight. But it didn't really matter what she looked like now, as long as she was alive. And as far as she knew, she was still in that state.

As she turned to go outside, she saw something sitting there in the corner. It was a bottle of something to drink...she _was_ terribly thirsty...so she grabbed it and gulped half of it down in two shakes. It burned her throat, and made her thirstier. So she left the cabin in search of some food.

Jack Sparrow played idly with his hat, fingering its weather-beaten brim. All three corners showed signs of dreadfully hard wear. It had been his for a long time.

The door to his cabin swung open, and a slightly tottering Corinne Young stumbled out. She did not look sick, only, perhaps, in need of some more food and water. Not surprising; she'd been asleep for more than two days. But...what was she -?

"What's that you're wearing?" he asked, and she turned to look at him.

"Looks like a shirt to me," she surmised, tugging at it and pretending to examine it thoroughly. "Yep, it's a shirt."

"It's _my_ shirt."

"It's a nice shirt," she offered, hugging herself. "Billowy."

Jack decided to humor her. "Are you hungry?" She nodded. "Then go to the galley and get some food."

She started towards it, but he wasn't so sure she'd make it without falling overboard, so he hopped down and grabbed her arm. As soon as he was in her proximity, he smelled it. Rum. She must have found the bottle he'd left in the room for himself, after he'd woken her up with it two days earlier.

"Sounds like you're going to be a little tipsy for a while," he commented. "Unless you have a better alcohol toleration than I do."

Corinne woke up again in Jack's cabin...but with a pounding headache this time. She put a hand over her forehead and tried to make it go away, but it was stubborn and her head began to throb all the worse.

She sat up and the room spun...whoa. She lay down again. The room was only spinning a little bit, just with the gentle rocking of the ship. But she dared not sit up again until she was sure she would keep all the food she'd eaten yesterday down. And even lying there she wasn't entirely certain she could manage it. Though, then again, she wasn't sure if it was still there, after last night. She didn't know why she'd just thought that...and then she realized she couldn't remember the night before. All she remembered was putting on Jack's shirt, and then taking a drink from...oh. She understood now why her head felt like it was going to fall off and she had no memory of the previous sixteen or so hours. She'd been drunk.

The cabin door's _creak_ made her head turn. Jack stepped in, carrying a cupful of water for her. "Feeling better, are we?" he asked cheerfully. She shook her head, attempting to raise it slightly to reach the water. It tasted so good, so sweet, so cool...and she was at the bottom of the cup. Jack took the empty cup back.

"We'll touch at Port Royale tonight," he said. "Elizabeth will want to know you are safe."

"Eliza -? How did you -?"

He grinned at her reaction. "You _were_ drunk last night, so I decided to find out what we owed the honor of your visit to the Caribbean to. Elizabeth and Will and I...well, let's just say that they were my partners in crime for a while."

Corinne stared at him. "So you're...taking me back to Port Royale?"

He nodded. "Yes. Well actually, the _Pearl _will be waiting back farther, and I'll bring you into the actual place. It would be too obvious, too much of a risk for us to sail the most wanted ship – the fastest ship, mind you – in these waters, this close to the largest British city in the Caribbean. But I believe I may be able to slip past the defenses long enough to let you ashore."

"But why? Why are you doing this?" she asked, puzzled.

He leaned against the doorpost. "Last night...even though you were drunk, you were being so serious about what you were saying even I dared not laugh. You told me you wanted to stay on the _Pearl_. You told me you wanted to cease being British, and start being yourself."

"I _said_ that?" she was shocked. Those had only been thoughts...true enough, perhaps, but she knew she could never live them out. Or maybe that was not entirely true...

"Yes. And so I'm taking you to Port Royale, where you may do one of two things...you may either tie up loose ends and meet my ship on Tortuga – I'll wait there for two weeks, and no longer – or you may decide to stay. If that is the case, then live your British life, and happily."

Corinne was astonished. No one had ever offered her a choice between doing what her heart wanted to do and doing what her mind told her she must do. And she did want to stay with them.

"Also," he continued with a grin, "I want to make sure they know I'm not dead."

"I'll be ready when we arrive," she replied, successfully attempting to sit up.

Jack smiled. "Good."


	7. Port Royale, at Last

Chapter Seven

There was no sound but the waves, the quiet creaking of the boat and oars, and the breathing of the rower. Jack leaned forward, pulling the oars with him. They would be to the dock in a few minutes. No one was in sight just yet, but he was sure that he would have barely enough time to help Corinne onto the dock and leave before he was in danger. There was a small window of time.

She was quite lovely, he decided, looking at her under the silvery moonlight. He especially liked her hair...it was red, perhaps a less than desirable color in British circles, but he'd always liked red.

His mind flicked from Corinne to the dock. There was somewhat of a commotion...looked like a couple of men were at it hammer and tongs. He heard shouts of "thief!" from one, and so he guessed the other had stolen something from that one. It was the perfect diversion.

Corinne had said nothing the whole trip; she just looked thoughtful.

Jack was about to say farewell when a noise from behind – a _click_ – made her freeze and him turn around slowly. He faced a pistol barrel, and a glaring naval officer behind it.

"Mister, I'd like to know what you be doin' at this hour of the night, with a lady in a boat,"

"Actually, I was just leaving," he said. "The lady here was stranded and need to get to Port Royale."

"That so? Well, I'm going to have to find out if that's true or not. Out of the boat, both of you."

Jack helped Corinne up onto the dock, and the private stepped between them as Jack reached the dock himself. "What's your business 'ere in Port Royale?" he glowered. Corinne, after Jack made signs to leave right away, hesitantly stepped back. Then she turned and left, but he knew that she would be back. Or at least, someone would.

The private, who was still on the same duty he'd been a couple of months earlier, finally recognized Jack. "Ha! You're that pirate! Well, you're going to the gallows tomorrow. Commodore Norrington's orders."

"Of course, I'm sure the illustrious Commodore Norrington would be very pleased to hear that an old friend of his has returned." Jack grinned at the private's reaction.

But other officers, including one who put iron shackles on him, soon surrounded him. They led him to the jail cell, and one of the men was sent to alert the Commodore of their prized catch.

The jail cell he'd been in before had been repaired – no doubt, by the very same blacksmith who had destroyed it – and they locked him in it. He sat in the corner under the moonlight, waiting. For what, he wasn't sure. But he knew the Corinne would help him, if she could.

The door swung open, and the butler stared at the bedraggled figure that stood on the doorstep. It was a young woman...but he hadn't been notified that any more would be staying here.

"Hello..." Corinne began. "I'm Corinne Young...I'm Elizabeth's cousin. I've just arrived from England."

The butler still did not seem to understand entirely, but his face brightened at the mention of Elizabeth. "Elizabeth is married now, and she lives just down the street, in the little green house...number five."

"Thank you," she replied, and started her way down the street. She stopped at number five, a small but serviceable-looking house, and rapped lightly on the door. Elizabeth answered it. She did not recognize Corinne for a moment, and said, "Can I help you?" but then her eyes widened before her cousin had a chance to answer her.

She was given no chance to speak still, but was immediately pulled inside. "What has happened to you?"

"You mean, you don't know? I mean, at least part of it. I was captured by pirates," she said.

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "The captain of the _Jupiter_ told Father that you'd fallen overboard and been lost at sea."

Corinne's face reddened with anger. "That...that bloody Englishman!"

Elizabeth had guessed it. "They were too embarrassed to tell us the truth."

"Yes. Indeed, I was treated better by the pirates than, I think, by anyone else. Well, there was the ship I was 'rescued' from the pirates by, but the only one who talked to me really was the first mate. And he was a eunuch, anyway. But I..." she yawned. "I am so tired."

But then something struck her. "When do they hang prisoners?" she wondered.

"At dawn...why? Is something...who's going to be hanged?"

"Oh, no...Jack is...he's the pirate who brought me back –"

"Jack? Jack Sparrow?"

"Yes," Corinne said hurriedly. Her brain was beginning to put the pieces together. "He said he knew you...Oh, this is all wrong!"

"What's wrong?" Will had been aroused by the commotion in the front hall.

Elizabeth turned to him. "They have Jack. They're going to hang him."

"Well," he surmised, "The anniversary festival is tomorrow, so they'll wait at least another day. We may be able to get him out."

"Meanwhile," Elizabeth said, "You must be tired. You can tell me the rest in the morning."

Corinne obeyed the gentle hands that guided her towards a bed in the spare bedroom. She fell asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow.


	8. Errant Errands

Chapter Eight

Jack awoke long before the sun rose, in spite of his short night. One of the guards had said something about the festival, and they'd both gone off somewhere. So he was alone. He lay back on the straw to wait and see what would happen. But there was nothing to be done about the cell – Will may have known how to pop the door off, but he sure could put them on, too. It didn't rattle as the old one had. So there was just the waiting part that would do him in. He pulled his hat over his eyes and tried to sleep a little more.

But the sound of shoes on the stones aroused his attention. He sat up in time to see Corinne – a very humble and quiet Corinne – come in.

"Hello," she said.

He stood and bowed from the waist. "Miss Young."

"Jack," she began, "I'm so sorry, I didn't know –"

He silenced her. "It was my own decision, and you are alive, safe, sound, and apparently, in good lodging. It was the least I could do for a lady."

She rolled her eyes. "You and I both know you just wanted to tease the British."

"Yes, and look where it got me. Happened last time, too. Blast."

Her eyes brightened a bit, and she smiled. But the light faded. "I am not sure if Will can get you out of here..."

"Shhh!" he reached through the bars and put a hand over her mouth. She looked back towards the entrance.

"Sorry," she whispered. "Elizabeth had some errands to run, and she directed me to the jail. Will says he can get you out, but I'm not sure. The _keys_ are under lock and key."

Jack grinned. "He got me out last time, lass."

"Oh." She replied. Then, looking at the entrance, she heard voices. "I'd better go, Jack. And I _am_ sorry."

"Goodbye, Miss Young."

"Corinne." She said in return. "Goodbye, Jack."

The streets were crowded with many who were celebrating the anniversary of the founding of Port Royale. It had been thirty years since the first settlers had arrived, and now it was a thriving port of the Caribbean Sea.

Corinne waded through the sea of people and animals, searching for Elizabeth. She'd said she would be at the shop across from Will's...there. They'd spotted each other. Corinne headed towards her cousin.

"I have one more stop, Corinne, but I want you with me this time."

"All right."

"How's Jack?"

"Himself."

Elizabeth laughed. "Then knowing he'll be out soon put him in good spirits, I suppose."

"Yes, I have a feeling that was it."

The next stop was right on the main drag, amidst all the people who were thronging the streets. Elizabeth strode up to the front door of her father's manse and knocked. The butler answered, smiled, and let them in.

It was a grand house, nearly as grand as her own house in England, Corinne thought. But such things meant nothing to her now. She saw through the finery of British wealth easily.

Voices were heard upstairs, a female voice and two male. When they reached the upstairs drawing room, Corinne saw a young woman, about her own age, with brown hair and blue eyes. Then she saw the older man – Elizabeth's father, she knew him well enough – and another man, dressed in the fashion of a commodore.

"Elizabeth!" her father's happily surprised voice drew attention first. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Father," Elizabeth replied with a slightly annoyed look. Apparently, he still had the exasperating talent of worrying someone to death. She turned to Corinne, who stood just a little behind her, and pulled her forward. "Father, do you remember Corinne? She came to visit us. And the captain who said he lost her at sea lied."

The conversation was dead for a moment. But Elizabeth recovered first, and introduced her cousin to the other two in the room.

"This is Nikole Jones, my best friend from England – you two remember each other –?" They both nodded, offering the other a smile.

"And this is Commodore James Norrington," she cleared her throat, "my father's friend." Alarms went off in Corinne's brain as she realized that this man was the one who had ordered Jack's execution.

"Hello," she greeted them stiffly. "Delighted to meet you." But her words hid her true feelings only so much. The Commodore frowned slightly.

"What happened to you, that this captain desired to lie to me, his superior officer? He will be severely punished."

"I...I was captured by pirates, Commodore."

His face showed little surprise. "I have been trying to crack down on such activities, to prevent similar events from happening."

Nikole spoke. "Tell me, how did you manage to escape?" She asked as Elizabeth and Corinne sat down.

Corinne smiled. "I didn't escape. They brought me back to Port Royale."

The look on the Commodore's face was worth a pirate's treasure, she decided.

Norrington must have decided his business was with other things, and he changed the subject. "Speaking of Port Royale, have you heard about the storm a few days southwest of here?" he asked the Governor.

"Yes," he replied sadly, "And I'm told that the _Conqueror_ was destroyed by that maelstrom."

Corinne perked up. The _Conqueror_ had been the name of the ship that she'd been taken on after being with the _Pearl_. So it had been utterly demolished. She almost felt bad for them...almost. They may have afforded her all the comforts of a lady, but no one had taken the time to actually do anything with her or talk to her, really. On the pirate ship...well, they hadn't exactly kissed the ground she'd walked on, but she certainly got everything they had, too. And besides that, they had pulled her out of the water the second time, even when they knew she would probably etiquette them to death.

She tuned back into the conversation in time to hear Elizabeth invite Nikole to their house for tea, and she accepted. So perhaps Corinne could catch up a little with one of her cousin's friends...


	9. The Spring

Chapter Nine

Elizabeth's cook made a fine tea – the first decent tea Corinne had had since she'd left London. They sat around the small table, discussing some irrelevant topic.

Finally, after a lull in the conversation, Nikole spoke up. "Alright Elizabeth," she said with a grin, "Let's get on with the real reason you invited me for tea. What is it?"

Elizabeth smiled in return, but it faded. "The pirate who brought Corinne back was Jack. And he's going to be hanged tomorrow."

The former's face whitened. "Jack?"

"Yes. He was captured while bringing Corinne back into the harbor."

Corinne herself turned slightly green when she thought of it. Apparently, Jack knew more than just Elizabeth and Will.

"I wonder if you could..._persuade_ James to perhaps...look the other way tonight, when Will pays a visit?"

Nikole understood, and she nodded. "I believe I can do that. He'll do almost anything for me, I expect. Besides, Jack is an old friend...I will do everything in my power – or the Commodore's – to set him free." Her eyes gleamed with an unspoken plan...Corinne knew she was to do something impulsive.

Elizabeth laid a hand on her arm. "Thank you, so much."

Corinne only hoped that Nikole's powers of persuasion worked well, indeed.

Later that afternoon, Nikole returned, looking paler than she had before. She stepped into the house, looking around and biting her lip.

"Jack is going to disappear tonight...and so are the sentries who guard his cell. He says that there will be only record that Jack was sprung sometime during the night, possibly during the changing of the watch."

"Are you all right, Nikole?" Elizabeth was genuinely concerned. "You look whiter than usual."

"I...I promised the Commodore that I would marry him if he would do this for me."

Her best friend's eyes widened, and Corinne was shocked, herself.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Elizabeth asked. "I did the same thing myself, and was forced to go back on my word...for love."

"I...I'm sure. I do love James, uncompromising though he may be. I feel certain that this is my path, though I may be following it earlier than was planned. And I would marry James Norrington a thousand times to save Jack once."

"So...what are we to do?" Corinne asked. She was anxious to get started.

"James said that he would make sure the guards are gone tonight. He said that a small boat would be waiting at the water's edge. And he said 'Godspeed'."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Elizabeth's mouth. "James is a good man...I'm sorry that I let him down."

Nikole returned the smile. "You didn't let him down; he still thinks very highly of you. He considers it God's will that you two were never married...because we fell in love shortly after."

Elizabeth nodded; she was glad that Commodore Norrington had found himself a woman who loved him and would be content to become the wife of a fine, upstanding British officer.

When Will returned home from work that evening, Elizabeth told him the news. They prepared to leave at once.

Corinne descended the stairs just as Will opened the front door. The three of them quietly crept down the street and waited outside the Governor's house for Nikole to exit. She joined them and the party of four headed for the jail. Will scouted the area out to make sure that the guards were nowhere in sight, and then they entered the small prison.

Jack was lying quietly on the straw, and he stood at their approach. He grinned widely.

"Elizabeth...Will...so good to see you again. And Nikole – I guess we're square now, aren't we?"

She returned the grin. "Yes, Jack."

"Well, am I out of here, or are you just visiting in the dead of night for your own pleasure?"

Will grabbed a nearby bench and placed its leg on the cell bars. He pulled down, and with a great _clang_, the door came off. Jack stepped out and stretched. "Good to be pulled out of there again. Now, I should hope to be off..."

"There's a boat waiting at the shoreline," Will offered.

Jack bowed slightly to Will, tipped his battered hat to the women, and strode out the door. They followed, and he turned. "Much obliged," he said.

Corinne walked up to him. "Jack...I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused you-"

Jack didn't let her finish, but grabbed her by the arms and kissed her firmly on the mouth. When he stepped away, he saw Corinne's flushed cheeks and her flabbergasted expression. He grinned.

"No trouble at all, luv," he remarked, and began striding away again.

Corinne turned to the others, and saw that they weren't exactly looking at her. She blushed. "Nikole, is there enough supplies in that boat for two people?"

The Commodore's fiancée smiled. "I should think so."

"Then for all you know," she grinned, "the captain of the _Jupiter_ was telling the truth."

And she ran to catch up to Jack.

It was a nice boat; Jack would give them that. It didn't compare to the _Pearl_...but then again, nothing would ever compare to it.

Corinne was looking in the hold to see what the Commodore had put in it. There was some smoked ham, salt pork, biscuits, hardtack, and plenty of water and rum. Jack hoisted the sails and caught an evening breeze. They were soon making good headway, and she turned to wave to the three left on the beach.

"Well, I suppose I'm lost at sea," she said aloud. Jack turned around from his position at the bow.

"Not a bad person to be lost at sea with, eh?" he said, grinning.

She returned the smile. "Just as long as we don't run out of rum."


	10. Lost at Sea

Chapter Ten

The seagulls floated lazily overhead, and a gentle zephyr urged the boat along. The Isle of Tortuga was in sight, and the _Black Pearl_'s dark sails were easily seen from such a short distance.

Jack rummaged about in the hold, looking for anything that was worth bringing with him onto his ship. He held up the rest of the rum and the sack of biscuits.

"These'll come in handy," he grunted, lifting himself out.

Corinne surveyed the horizon, watching the pink and orange sunrise. She sighed. She was no longer under the pressures of English society, nor confined by anything at all within their realm. And it felt good.

"What are you thinking about, luv?" Jack plopped down beside her. His inquisitive expression made her either want to laugh or cry.

"I'm free."

He grinned. "Free and about to sail on the fastest ship in the world. Things are looking up."

"They are, indeed."

The small boat nearly bumped the _Pearl_'s huge side as she was drawn up, but the men were careful with the captain. Jack hopped out and Corinne fell out on the deck beside him.

"You'll have to work on the entrance thing," he commented as she righted herself.

"You'll have to work on the gentleman thing." She replied, poking him in the side.

"You've decided to stay, Miss Young," Gibbs remarked. "Good choice."

"I thought so, too." She replied.

"Well," Jack began as he took his place at the helm, "Are we off?"

"We're off," Gibbs answered, and the captain began shouting orders.

"Sails down! Get to work!" He yelled. "What, you think I've got all day, move!"

They grinned and started working. Some things never changed.

Jack leaned against the helm and pushed his hat back. He loved the sea. He looked down to where Corinne was learning to hoist the sails. She tugged on a rope, throwing her entire weight into the effort. She was a fast pupil; he'd give her that.

Perhaps the unlikeliest of loves, but then again, Jack had long since given up on being predictable. She was no longer the typical English noblewoman, either. She'd given it all up to be with him.

He looked over the horizon, watching the white clouds drift over the blue-green waters. Truly beautiful, it was.

The sea was his home. He was bound to it. And he loved it.

Corinne wiped the sweat from her brow as she worked hard. It felt good to be part of something. She had never had to do anything for herself, and now found that she rather enjoyed it.

She lifted her gaze to meet Jack's, and he smiled roguishly. Her parents would have been disappointed; but they did not know what she knew. And that made all the difference.

Jack leaned over the wheel and shouted to her, "You feeling like a pirate yet?"

She grinned. "Yep. And I couldn't feel better."

Yes, she decided, this was where she belonged.


End file.
